It's More Than A Habit
by MorbidScribbles
Summary: There could be no logical way that I could be here with such strong, thickly muscled arms tight around my scrawny frame." RenoXRude. An uhappy Reno gets some slightly sadistic affection from his partner.
1. Chapter 1

**My first posted story on ^^. Although everything here has also been posted on DeviantArt, I was just itching to get an account here!**

**Written about Reno and Rude, who are probably just my favourite characters from FFVII. For maaaany reasons.**

**But it helps that Reno is just gorgeous, and dangerous, and mad. Heh.**

**Reviews are just GREAT, they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside, and they really do help me to improve and write better stories next time!**

**3**

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Your dark fngers brush my cheek gently, just under the swooping marks under my eyes.

The startling contrast between us seems to make my skin look transparent. Yeah, and you can see it too. Probably feel it as well - how papery-thin it is. And how much different those two little red lines are. I bet you, like everyone else, thought that I religiously painted them on before anyone else saw me. But now you can tell that it's not makeup, or paint, or even ink embedded under the skin with a needle. They _are_ tattoos, of a sort. Slightly shiny red flesh, sliced out carefully and then left to heal. Oohhh. They hurt at first, of course they did. But now, I kinda like them. They make me stand out just that little bit more. And if you stand out enough at first, no one bothers to look any closer...

My thoughts are interrupted as you press your lips to the red marks - first one side, then the other, so soft and tender that if I hadn't seen you do it, I could have thought that I'd imagined it. But then, I could just be imagining all of this.

There could be no logical way that I could be here with such strong, thickly muscled arms tight around my scrawny frame. There was no way that your hands could be all over me, one of them anchored to my left cheek, the other one large and reassuringly warm on my lower back, pulling our bodies close together. The heat from your skin suddenly makes me realise that your shirt and jacket are gone - when did that happen? Oh well. I pull back slightly and steal a quick glance down between us. My crumpled white dress shirt makes a deep valley with your smooth, rippling torso, and gods, it's so beautiful. It feels beautiful too; skin so soft that it feels almost like satin encases abs of steel. An occasion line here and there, remnants from missions that we didn't quite manage to get out of unscathed.

'You're so fucking beautiful!'

You grin, probably at how awed and shocked I sound, and I realise that this is the first time I've ever seen you smile without your sunglasses on. It changes your face completely, making your dark eyes glitter. You start to lean down to me, lips parted so I can feel your hot breath cascading over my face, still smiling. I reach up, mouth slightly parted, ready to capture yours in a hungry kiss.

It is so passionate, so feverish, so _consuming_, that we are both panting heavily as we part to draw breath. My lungs now filled, I reattach myself to his delicious mouth, tracing his full bottom lip with my tongue, moaning slightly at how sweet he tastes. Lost in ravishing his mouth, I don't notice his hands tugging my shirt until I feel his index finger circling my nipple. I jerk away, struggle to pull the light material back down over myself, my frantic hands smoothing it down until they are gently prised away and held together in one of his huge paws.

He strokes my back gently, kisses my forehead. 'What are you hiding?'

I nod, just once. Sensing what I've allowed him to do, he undoes the buttons of my shirt with one hand, the other still holding my wrists tight. Then he pushes aside the white cotton to reveal my battered and scar-torn torso. I know that it is hideous, a mass of hatched lines that blaze red against my porcelain skin. I know that he knows that most of the marks aren't from fights or explosions. Sighing, he lets go of my hands, and they fall to my sides, the shirt around my shoulders falling off completely to land behind me on the floor. There is silence. And then, in a swift movement, my head is against the solid planes of his chest over his steadily thumping heart, I am enveloped in his arms, and I know deep down that this is his way of telling me that it's okay - that he doesn't think any less of me, that no one other than us will ever know. And then I am covered with dozens of light kisses - from the top of my head, along my jaw, trailing down my neck, onto my prominent collarbone where he licks and nips at the tender skin with his pearly teeth until I'm moaning quietly and my skin is starting to blossom with a purpley-blue stain under his mouth. He moves down, tracing each line that he comes across with his tongue, swirling around both my small pink nipples and my navel, the pale skin tingling and rising with goosebumps as his warm mouth moves away. As his hands fumble with my trousers, his breath lands hot on my taut lower stomach, and I reflect quickly that I can't remember ever being this aroused with any partner, male or female.

And now... Oh my god.


	2. Chapter 2

I actually think I'm going to explode. My chest is tight, my lungs pressed close against the iron-hard lines of my ribs, my heart pounding the way it does during a fight, sending huge amounts of adrenaline coursing round my body. Everywhere that my skin touches his, fucking electricity shoots between us, like he's stuck his mag rod against my skin and flicked on the current. His skin is as icy as it looks under my burning hands, and I don't want to hold him too tight in case I break him.

His ragged nails dig into my shoulders as I slide the two thin layers of black nylon away from his jutting hipbones and brushed accidentally against his rock-hard cock. He jolted like he'd been hit, and moaned gutterally. Gods, who knew he was so reactive to touch? Just experimentally, I reach out one finger and stroke firmly down the shaft. His skinny hips buck, and I grin up at his glassy-eyed expression, pointing my tongue out from between my lips as I move my gaze back to his groin. Leaning forward, I open my mouth and envelope his length, relaxing the muscles in my throat. He groans. Oh, heaven... I flick my tongue around the hot flesh in my mouth, massaging it gently. In truth, I have no idea what I'm doing - I'd never done this before, at least, not with a guy. Everything I was doing was what I could remember from past blowjobs I'd received - and I hadn't exactly been paying attention to what exactly they'd been doing. All I knew was that it'd felt good, and right now I wanted him to feel that good too.

It seemed like I was succeeding, I could taste salty liquid on my tongue, and his hips were thrusting and twitching rhythmically, his cold hands gripping my broad shoulders tightly.

Suddenly he shoots his load into my mouth, arching his back and sighing my name so sexily that I want to ravish him there and then. I swallow, thinking quietly in my head that he tastes like nothing else on this earth (he also tastes very different from myself), and then my thoughts are stopped as he pulls me up to him for a mind-blowing kiss, Our tongues wrestle and fight, limbs wrapped around each other, each of us pulling the other close and crushing our bodies together, until all that seems to matter in my oxygen-deprived state is his legs around my waist, his hands digging into my back and shoulders, his now-warm body pressed tight against mine as his mouth devours me.

I open my eyes just a little. I want to see his face while we kiss.

His eyes are closed, the blue irises almost glowing through his near-translucent lids, spikes of fiery red hair sticking slightly to his forehead after his orgasm. His normally pale cheeks are flushed a dusty pink, and as I draw back I can see that this flush has extended over most of his scrawny body. Mmm.

With his fingers tight around my muscular upper arms, he pushes me backwards until the backs of my knees hit the bed and I sink down onto the soft cover until I'm almost level with his gently peaking nipples, that rise and fall in time with his panting breaths. Clambering onto my lap, he shoves me sprawling onto my back, then wriggles up to plant a kiss on my unresisting mouth. A growl rises in my throat and I roll him over so that his lithe frame is under my far larger self. At this he grins, his pale eyes glinting wickedly, arching his back so that his hips rubbed against my ridiculously large erection, and this time I'm the one moaning and pleading for more.

I love the slightly sadistic streak that he has in him. The side that means that he can laugh as he beats a person to death with his mag-rod. The side that has him playing constantly with the silver rings in my ears, pulling them gently and asking if it hurts when he pulls harder. The one that is making him scrape his teeth right now along the pronounced jugular vein in my neck, nipping the tenderised skin, seeming determined to draw blood - I know that he loves that, all of the blood, although sometimes i wish he'd refrain from telling me EVERYTHING when he's had a few drinks.

He giggles as he pulls off the rest of my clothes, throwing them away so that they hit the wall with a soft 'thud' and slide down to the floor. And then his hands are everywhere all at once - one closed around my throbbing cock, the other roaming over my back, my butt, my sides, my head as he writhes and moves upwards until his lips are at my ear.

'Fuck me.'


	3. Chapter 3

'Fuck me,' I purr against his ear, nipping the dark lobe with my flat front teeth. He growls again, deep in the back of his throat, and, running his hands down the sides of my emanciated thighs, yanks my knees apart and clamps them around his broad frame. I can tell that he's slightly confused by my quick change from the crumbled and soggy form that had huddled inside his hug like a baby clinging to its mother into the suddenly sex-crazed and fierce young man attached to his naked skin.

He moans again as I rub against him, his neatly cut fingernails cutting into the soft wiry muscle of my thigh so hard that they draw blood, and I hiss slightly at the sharp stab of pain.

I always kind of knew I was more than a bit masochistic. Whenever I got injured on a mission, or whenever I'd felt the need to add to the deeply-scored lines across my chest, the feeling of ripping and tearing flesh and the sight and smell of my metallic blood would set my pulse racing until it was hammering through my veins, making my pupils slip open into huge black pools against the almost neon blue of my irises. Even now, the small stinging wounds on my thighs are making me almost delirious with lust.

I grind against his straining cock now resting hot between my thighs, desperately trying to push myself down onto him. His hands stop me, however, one large thumb brushing over my lips tenderly, imploring me to wait and be patient. I oblige him and relax back onto the soft cottom sheets of the bed, then shot almost upright as he spears straight into me, filling me to the core with red-hot flesh. I howl into his mouth as he hits the sweet spot inside me that sends a tidalwave of pleasure tearing over my body, making the shorter strands of hair at the back of my neck stand on end, my spine arching so that my whole torso is clamped to his, my hands scrabbling at the smooth planes of his broad shoulders for something to cling to. He draws slowly back out, and then thrusts back in roughly, and this time instead of howling, I affix my mouth to his shoulder, kissing and nipping the flesh. And now we're rocking together, moving faster, drawing ever closer to climax, both of us gasping for oxygen, fingers, teeth, tongues all over each other, and there is fire in my stomach, fire that feels as bright and glaring as my hair, fire that spills out over our stomachs as I reach an almost bone-shattering orgasm that makes me bite reflexively hard down on the salty skin between my lips, until creamy blood fills my throat like soft rich butter. Grunting, he climaxes too, spurting inside me while my muscles still spasm from the intense release of my own peak, then falls forwards, making sure that he isn't quite crushing my trembling body as we both pant like drowned men.

Then, when he seems to have recovered some of his strength, he rolls over, taking me with him so that I end up sprawled across his heaving chest, tufty hair under his chin and mouth close enough to the droplet of blood dripping slowly from his bitten shoulder to be able to reach out and lick it away, which I do, luxuriating in the thick metallic taste.

My eyes start to slip closed. One large hot paw strokes down my back, caressing each protruding knob of my spine slowly, moving into small rhythmic circles as it gets lower. The other paw is tangled in my long hair, which seems to have escaped its normal strict ponytail, resting lightly against the curve of my skull.

Just for a second, I consider how we must look to an outsider - white and tan, dark and light entwined together in a death-grip. It seems like it would be beautiful to just sit and hours on end.

I love the idea.

I love what we just did.

I love _him_.

'Aishiteru....aibou,' I murmur, just before I slip into an exhausted sleep.


End file.
